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“You’re always hungry,” I say with a small smile. “It wasn’t too hard to guess you’d need some sustenance after tonight.”
He eyes me warily, and I eye him back, testing him. Something big did happen tonight, even if Seer hasn’t told me about it yet. But Hex can’t know that. He’ll spill all the beans without much coaxing.
“I’m surprised you’re so calm,” he tells me. “It’s not every day your husband is caught in a mass shooting.”
I compose my face, not giving away that this is brand-new information. But he fucking what? Now I’m angry, and I plan to show Seer when we’re alone in bed. He’s been home for hours now. How could he not mention anything to me?
“Well, that’s the nice thing about me. I keep my composure in tough situations.”
Technically, this isn’t a lie, since that’s exactly what I’m doing. I hide my anger so Hex will tell me more.
“It must have been scary,” I say casually. “He didn’t have time to tell me much, just that he was okay.”
Hex nods and swallows a large bite of his sandwich. “There’s really not much to say,” he replies. “We didn’t see the shooter, and by the time everyone else showed up, the bastard had fled. The police think it was the Cuatro Locos, but Pocus isn’t so sure.”
I nod, processing this information. My best friend is singing like a canary.
“In fact, Pocus thinks the shooting was just a distraction to get everyone out of the house. Did you see the front lawn?”
This time, I show my surprise.
“What happened to the front lawn?” I ask.
“Someone TP’d it. And the same son of a bitch threw a rock through my window and trashed my room.”
I sit up sharply and examine him. The darkness hovers at the edges of my consciousness, and I see now that it obscures his aura. Whatever monster I saw in my dreams, it has set its sights on Hex specifically. I put my hand on his arm and force him to look at me.
“Tell me everything,” I whisper urgently. “What was missing?”
He shrugs and tells me he has nothing to take. The room was trashed, but he didn’t find anything missing. That worries me more because it means whoever trashed his room wasn’t looking for anything. They were trying to intimidate him.
Hex isn’t easily intimidated. No one here is. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t give it a second thought, but his aura is wrong. It’s dark and negative.
“Are you okay?” I ask him, thinking perhaps the negativity can be attributed to the current situation. But in his Hex-like fashion, he simply shrugs and tells me he’s fine.
“It’s not the first time I’ve found my room trashed. I mean, it’s the first time here, but this shit happened to me a lot as a kid. I’m not that worried about it.”
“Is there anything you are worried about?” I ask him seriously, but he only shrugs again.
Perhaps it’s good that he isn’t worried. I’ll worry enough for the both of us. He finishes his sandwich and tells me he’s beat. He sulks off to bed, and I watch him go, fearful for my friend’s future.
CHAPTERSEVEN
As exhausted as I am from two days of interrupted sleep, it takes me a long time to settle down. Everyone is worried about these new developments, and the ghosts hiding is a huge concern for me. The ghosts never cower, not even from Pocus’s occasional angry outbursts.
I consider this for a long time before I sink into a dark place. I look around and realize I’m back in the cemetery searching for ghosts. It’s probably a better use of my time than sleeping anyway. Pocus won’t be happy until I get to the bottom of the attacks and find out what spooked the ghosts.
A fog coils around my feet, and I call out for the ghosts to knock it off. They like to scare people, but I know all their tricks. I simply roll my eyes, bored with their games. If this is how they’re going to act when I need their help, I don’t want it. We’ll figure out what’s going on without them.
I sit down against a headstone, letting my tired body rest, when I hear laughter. It’s not uncommon to hear laughter in a graveyard. It’s another one of the ghosts’ tricks. Except I know this laughter. I’ve heard it before. I stand and look around, trying to identify the source of the sound. I catch the streak of raven hair again, and I chase after her.
No matter how fast and far I run, though, she remains out of my reach. Who is she and why do I feel like I’ve known her all of my life? I won’t get any answers until I find her. I trip over a root, but rather than hit the ground, I keep falling down, down, down in an endless loop.
I finally sit up in bed, my sheets drenched. It was a dream, but I realize the woman at the club is the woman in my dreams. How can I be dreaming about someone I’ve never even met before? How do I already know the sound of her laughter?
I look at my phone and realize I’ve been asleep for several hours. I don’t feel rested at all, but there’s no way I’ll be able to get back to sleep. I’m jittery and agitated, too wired to try to sleep again. It’s 6:00 AM, and the sun is weakly filtering through the window. I need to get to the bottom of this.
* * *
